


who needs air (when you're mine you're safe and sound)

by coincidental



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Rough Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 21:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18859249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coincidental/pseuds/coincidental
Summary: “Ah- Scheisse.” Essik chuckles against his skin, his amusement punctuated with a sucking bite to Caleb’s jaw.“Such language, Mr Widogast,” he teases, obvious delight in his voice at Caleb’s cursing. “If you will insist on having such a dirty mouth in company, perhaps put it to better use. A good lesson for you.” His words shock a shivering heat through Caleb. It takes little guidance from the drow to have him sinking to his knees.Caleb and Shadowhand Essik Theylas get down and dirty in Essik's study, someone interrupts.





	who needs air (when you're mine you're safe and sound)

**Author's Note:**

> This ship is a brilliant idea and will also be the death of me.  
> Thanks for the Shadowgast server for the excitable encouragement and the wonderfully sweet [Supersonica](https://archiveofourown.org/users/supersonica/pseuds/supersonica) for beta reading and tidying. 
> 
> **Please heed the tags on this fic all!**  
>  Enjoy!  
> xo

The desk behind Caleb is a slightly uncomfortable line that digs in to his back, unyielding, but the presence of Essik at his front, equally unyielding but more pleasurably so, makes it all worth it. The tall drow brackets him in, his mouth dragging sweet, biting kisses up Caleb’s throat. Caleb voices his soft appreciation, stroking at the short soft burr of the white hair at the nape of his neck.  
“Ah- Scheisse.” Essik chuckles against his skin, his amusement punctuated with a sucking bite to Caleb’s jaw.  
  
“Such language, Mr Widogast,” he teases, obvious delight in his voice at Caleb’s cursing. “If you will insist on having such a dirty mouth in company, perhaps put it to better use. A good lesson for you.” His words shock a shivering heat through Caleb. It takes little guidance from the drow to have him sinking to his knees.

Essik settles himself with a practiced nonchalance in his desk chair and looks down at Caleb from beneath hooded lids and thick snowy lashes. “Are you comfortable? Shuffle back a little, I may as well work whilst you occupy yourself.”

Caleb’s cheeks heat at the notion, a high pink flush spreading across his face as he does as Essik bids, shifting back on his knees in the dark space beneath the cavernous desk.  
  
When Essik tucks his chair forward, Caleb finds himself unavoidably close to the man’s crotch and his breath comes a little short. From above him, he hears the quiet shuffle of paper and the clink of an ink bottle. “You are normally a quick study, I trust you do not need further instruction?” Essik’s voice is fractionally muffled and Caleb sees no point in responding verbally, fumbling in the darkness to move aside the man’s elaborate layers and unbutton his breeches.  
  
He’s not fully hard yet, just interested, his skin velvety soft and warm in Caleb’s hand. He nuzzles in, glad for the position and the way it hides the burning heat of his cheeks, dragging wet kisses along Essik’s length.  
  
Were he not hidden like this, Caleb knows he would not be able to escape the pale golden stare of Essik’s gaze, the smug smirking curl of his mouth, the-  
“Very good, Caleb.” Essik sounds hardly affected, albeit pleased.

 The words make heat pool in Caleb’s belly and arousal hum through his veins. Opening his mouth, Caleb settles the flared head of Essik’s cock on his tongue and sucks gently. He hums soft approval at the clean salty musk of Essik, gentle fingers stroking and coaxing the drow to hardness. It does not take long. 

Caleb bobs his head in lazy, slow movements, listening for the motions of his tongue that make the incessant scratch of Essik’s pen cease for a beat, or for the short, almost inaudible, inhalations the man makes when Caleb gets it just right. 

In the midst of this, there is a sharp rap on the door of the drow’s study. Essik speaks up, a remarkably cool, “Enter.”

Caleb freezes entirely beneath the desk at the swing of the door and the sound of footsteps, shifting to pull back. The gentle and implacable touch of Essik’s hand on the back of his neck coaxes him to still.

He can feel his pulse like a trapped bird, panicked and rapid. Essik’s slow, measured touches calm him, steady him. Caleb closes his eyes and breathes slowly, steady breaths through his nose. Above him, he can half hear the buzz of conversation, but he tunes it out, focusing on the slow drag of Essik’s nails over his scalp, carding through the thick mess of his hair; on the way his mouth is pleasantly stretched and how Essik still leaks a little on his tongue. Somehow it soothes his momentary panic, helps him find his calm centre once more. He shivers.  
  
Caleb drifts a little in that strange, unfamiliar state, while Essik murmurs measured responses to his visitor, a quiet back and forth of conversation. Caleb knows, vaguely, that if he focuses on it too much it will pull him from this pleasant haze.

Despite that, he hears Essik well enough, keyed into his voice perhaps. “No, not at all busy, I can certainly spare a moment. Read me the report.” Beneath Essik’s desk, Caleb stirs from his haze enough to be affronted that Essik is _wilfully_ continuing to have this impromptu meeting. He shifts a little, slow and careful on his knees, and sucks hard. Essik’s knee jerks and smacks against the underside of the desk.  
“Are you alright, Shadowhand?” Essik coughs and beneath the desk he taps Caleb admonishingly on the nose, like an errant puppy.  
“Quite alright, continue.”  
  
Caleb does not make a sound, just drags his teeth gently over heated, sensitive skin. Essik covers his high sound of surprise and the jerk of his hips with a cough. It is loud enough, just about, to obscure the muffled soft noise Caleb makes as the shift of the drow’s hips makes him choke a moment, Essik’s cock sliding too deep. Caleb finds his eyes watering and face hot, but his own arousal remains undimmed. In fact, something in the moment has him harder than before, curling a palm around the hard length in his breeches.  
“On second thoughts, I think I may be coming down with some kind of cold. Perhaps you could leave the report with me and I will write my thoughts back to your master?” The stranger’s reply is indistinct, but Caleb hears the departing footsteps and the quiet _snick_ of the closed door.

 Essik shifts then, sliding his chair back from the desk and pulling from Caleb’s mouth in the process. The drow stares down, yellow eyes lit with both amusement and annoyance.  
“Were you trying to humiliate me, Mr Widogast? Trying to elicit those responses from me?” Caleb shifts his aching jaw in circles and licks his lips a little, tongue sliding over their wet, swollen redness. “I did not mean to get rough, but you were being most terribly behaved.”

Essik beckons, then taps two long fingers against his thigh, calling Caleb forward from beneath the desk. He shuffles into the light, red cheeked and glossy eyed, knees aching on the cold floor and crystal clear blue eyes never leaving Essik’s.

Pale citrine eyes follow him, tracking a path down to his crotch and the evidence of his own interest. Essik ‘ _tssk_ s’, smirking. “Or is it that you enjoyed the roughness, Mr Widogast? Were you _looking_ to elicit such a response?” Caleb cannot bring himself to admit the unintentionally discovered truth in that statement, but his lack of response seems to tell Essik plenty.

Something foreign and molten hot shifts in Caleb’s belly as he rests his cheek against Essik’s thigh and the drow wizard cards his fingers less than gently through Caleb’s hair. The mild scrape against his scalp stokes the heat inside him and his lips part in an unsteady breath. Essik hums thoughtfully, and it is almost without warning that his hand tightens into a fist around Caleb’s coppery hair clenched, yanking his head back a little, throat bared. The sound that Caleb makes is a desperate little whine, slipping from his lips quite unbidden.

“Shall I be rough, Caleb? Is that what you want?” Even as he speaks, Essik is guiding Caleb’s head with that vice grip on his hair, angling him to press the sensitive head of his cock against Caleb’s parted lips. For his part, Caleb cannot help the little moan that emerges softly from the back of his throat, lapping his tongue to catch the leaking fluid, the salty viscosity an intoxicating taste. 

Sex has a taste that nothing replicates, saline and hot and _other_ , a heavy intimacy to it that nothing can match. It makes Caleb jerk in the confines of his breeches and he cannot look down, but he imagines there is a wet spot on the fabric.

Essik allows him to ease into it, and as he feels the drow hit the back of his throat, he makes eyes contact and swallows around him. Essik’s answering smile is close lipped and slow, curling deliciously at the corners.  
“Clever boy,” he murmurs, just as he begins to shift his hips and guide Caleb both, snapping forward in short hard thrusts that rapidly have Caleb’s eyes watering and drool sliding down his chin.

The graceless abandon playing against militant control in that moment has Caleb entranced. Essik’s cheeks have tinged to a darker purple tone, his white teeth are bared and his eyes are heavy lidded. His own movements punch shaking, short sounds from him, like it hurts to feel so intensely, little grunts and soft hisses of pleasure. Caleb’s jaw aches and his eyes swim with tears, but the feeling of being held so utterly still in this moment, of giving over himself entirely to Essik’s pleasure and control is… heady.

Essik comes with the elegant line of his spine a perfect arch off the desk chair, keeping Caleb in place with a firm hold that seems improbable for the delicate, dextrous look of his hands. Caleb swallows, allowing himself to close his eyes, breaths coming short and a little snuffled through his nose, pressed as it is to the drow’s deep purple-grey skin.

Essik’s grip relaxes, fingers stroking exceedingly gently against Caleb’s sore scalp, the back of his neck, along his aching jaw. Caleb eases back, coughing just a little and brushing a brief kiss to Essik’s palm. The drow huffs a faintly amused sound, his posture gone lax and limp in the chair, so far removed from his normally poised self.

“I did not mind that,” Caleb admits, rough and low, clearing his throat a little, “but if you ever again continue to have a conversation with someone when I am sucking your cock, I will bite you.” A smile plays about his mouth, his tone conversationally threatening. Essik’s smile shows teeth.  
“Oh, I do not doubt it for one moment, Mr Widogast.” Essik taps one of Caleb’s teeth with a nail when he bares them, momentarily. “Now, would you care to come up here so I can assist you?”

Caleb rolls his eyes as he stands, finding his knees stiff from the long kneeling position and movement uncomfortable with how hard he still is, even having softened a little in the quiet interim of Essik catching his breath. The man folds Caleb into his arms and coaxes him down for a kiss.

Essik’s kisses are always as poised as the rest of him. Perhaps an odd way to describe a kiss, but the man goes about it in such a way that it feels as straightforward and elegantly composed as everything else he does. Caleb melts quickly in the drow’s arms, allowing himself to be drawn into the slouched comfort of Essik’s lap, straddling the easy spread of his thighs and grinding a little against the man’s clothed stomach.

Indulging Caleb’s movements, Essik’s hands drag over him in languorous slow touches, stroking firmly against his back, his sides, his thighs. They palm over his ass, squeezing a little, skim around to busy themselves with the lacing of his breeches. They’re cool on his heated skin when Essik frees Caleb’s hardness and strokes him with no preamble.

Caleb breaks their kiss to gasp, forehead resting against Essik’s.  
“Schneller, bitte,” he instructs, rasping, “ah- faster.” The other wizard does not hesitate to follow, oddly luminous eyes open and watching Caleb’s expressions intently.

Orgasms feel a lot like casting a spell to Caleb, the same exhilarating rush of heat and pleasure and combustion each time, addictive and satisfying. He spills over Essik’s still moving hand and pants through his completion, muffling a moan against the drow’s unresisting mouth and slumping heavily against him.

It’s quiet in the drow’s study, but for the slow sounds of Caleb catching his breath. Essik’s wet hand is splayed on his hip, thumb rubbing slow, deliberate circles. A click of his fingers has them both clean with a strange tingling sensation left by the brush of magic, fizzing not unpleasantly.  
“If this was supposed to distract me from the spell I asked about, it has not worked.” Caleb’s remark is dryly matter of fact and Essik breathes a chuckle into the tangle of Caleb’s hair. Caleb smiles, privately.  
“I did not suppose it would have, but it was worth a try, was it not, Mr Widogast?” Caleb huffs his own amusement in response. “Ah well, up then, we should compose ourselves. You can show me if you have practiced enough of the last spell and I will consider showing you this new one, hmm?”

A short while later finds the two of them with their heads bent together over over a text, debating arcane theory with zest, the challenge of it delighting to them both.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed, please take a sec to leave kudos or a comment or like, yell with me about how these two should flirt forever.  
> <3


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